she walked into the coffee bar
and was greeted
by the usual smiles
from the usual faces
and the usual hands
crafted her usual drink
to its usual perfection

casual warm smiles
were exchanged
along with the payment
for for the beverage
and service provided
both sweet and friendly

she walked to the corner
in the back
her favorite spot  
not overly bright in the day
and not under lit in the evening

she slouched back
into the booth
and found the
comfortable crooked curve
she liked in her spine
sipped the swan
off the top of her latte
and opened her sketch pad

her pen slowly twirled
in her hand
dancing between her fingers
pausing to

  tap-pa

    tap-pa
    
      tap-pa

on the fresh blank page

she thought of what he would say
her lips scrunched up
and raised slightly
towards her right cheek
while her pen continued
to tap dance on the page
and pirouette perfectly
on the tippy tip of her fingers

maybe he would make a joke

no...

he would be too nervous
he was after all
shy and timid
her mirrored reflection
in almost all accounts

perhaps small talk
something about the recent
peculiar habits of the weather
or maybe the terrible new muffins
that with great deception
looked so wonderfully yummy
behind the glass counter display

no...

they were both
too fond of silence
to break it over things
that were so trivial

no matter what he said
he would be nervous
and would try and fail
to hide this fact
behind his ever present
awkward smile

she knew what he wanted to say
that she wanted to hear him say it
but that it couldn’t just be said

not straight out

they were words too big
to pass through his throat
words too loud for her ears

words that could wait
words that could be said
without being spoken aloud
and still be heard

he had to say something though
awkward silence
though a specialty
they both excelled at
had both its place
and limited charm
and this was not its time
or place to be charming

she clicked the back of the pen
and placed the ball on the page
and started to make
lines and curves
some smooth
some jagged
a rhythm of uncertainty
from her moving hand and wrist

she imagined the sound
of his voice
and started to sculpt
and mold it into words
they floated there in her mind
juggled themselves
between past and present
metaphors and prose
truth and...

she smiled as she figured it out

he would tell her a lie

a harmless mess
of obvious mischief
not meant to fool
or mislead

but to entertain
and to humor
to hide
the much heavier truth
in plain sight

a small but loud giggle
and snort escaped her
and she shrank down
a little in her corner

she composed herself
sat up just a little bit straighter  
and then she began to write....